


A Foolishly Human Mistake

by Anonymous



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Good omens big bang fall out, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical References, Minor Character Death, Multi, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 02:44:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21438916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Being a “Guardian Angel” was little more than a customary promotion title after the Garden was sealed away and he found himself, much to the Archangels and his surprise, in Heaven for nearly a millennium bound to an office job. Aziraphale had a feeling the reason, while ineffable to Gabriel and the others, was his lack of transparency with the All Mighty. If he had been so daring, he would have thought Her a hypocrite as far as transparency goes.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 2
Collections: Anonymous





	A Foolishly Human Mistake

**Author's Note:**

> This story is un-beta'd as I just kind of used it to decompress from personal life and the Good Omens Big Bang. I don't know if I'll be comfortable to attach my account to this story in the future, but maybe someday! Check out the Chaotic Omens: The Fallout of a Big Bang collection for amazing stories from authors participating in the Big Bang!

To love someone is to constantly doubt your abilities while trying your best for them everyday. To love someone is to communicate, understand, and work together through the highs and lows. To love someone is one of the greatest of human emotions. However, to love someone, knowing well that they will not return such intentions, is to push your wants and needs deep in your gut. To watch them give their attentions to another will claw at your veins while supporting their endeavors will lead to your own system of support falling apart. Through the tear and spit stained pillow that muffles the screams and cries, an unfortunate fool soon realizes unreciprocated love is a vile game. For all intents and purposes, it is one where you can only lose. It is one where the winner is lucky demon that gets to feed off your despair and pain, laughing as they sip at your tears and scratch at your heart to help each tear further progress till the organ is ripped to shreds.

He had read stories and novels throughout the centuries of such cases, watching in pity as they screamed in their heads but poured out the most exuberant amount of love a human could. He saw through each porcelain mask and plaster smile, the way they would all laugh with their not-significant other (significant to one, but never mutual) only to return to the silence and seclusion of home, letting the static air consume their masks and happy thoughts to leave doubts and quiet sobbing in its wake. He watched them with compassion, never truly being able to help them with their desires. When he had first started walking among and watching over them, he firmly believed these humans to be flawed and selfish. A human should never be seen as a desire by another, he declared to himself after watching many fall victim to such perversions. But Aziraphale quickly found that this was not the case with those that gave love for nothing in return. While he wished to end the suffering of one, he could not deny another of their own personal happiness. It was not his place to encroach upon any human’s free will. That would be going against God’s will- against his purpose of being created and all that he had worked for thus far. 

Being a “Guardian Angel” was little more than a customary promotion title after the Garden was sealed away and he found himself, much to the Archangels and his surprise, in Heaven for nearly a millennium bound to an office job. Aziraphale had a feeling the reason, while ineffable to Gabriel and the others, was his lack of transparency with the All Mighty. If he had been so daring, he would have thought Her a hypocrite as far as transparency goes. But the thought never passed his mind as he filled out paper after paper for nine hundred ninety-seven Earthly years. Once released from his task, he was given a title with the hope that he would be the best match to deal with humans. His “not-quite-distaste” for humans, as Michael had so graciously offered with a disgusted rise of their nose, had made him perfect to be among them. 

Comparatively, they were correct. It was rather embarrassing watching fellow angels, those that saw themselves as above his own station, fumble and lack any tact with humans. It was a job that he could only trust himself to do. He had, with no amount of certainty as he didn’t care to to put any effort into certainties, hundreds of thousands of souls that he had persuaded to do good in each of their lifetimes. Few humans were assigned Guardian Angels as there was, in reality, only Aziraphale with such a title (he refused to ever go by said title, however, preferring to keep  _ Principality _ ). 

A little less than 6,000 years Aziraphale had been globe trotting, taking on various roles to be close to those deemed blessed by God. One would be born and Aziraphale would slip into their lives at a moment that seemed natural, help develop their goals and virtues in a way that would please Heaven, help them succeed, watch them die (whether from age or the sword), mourn their end, take a single year break, and then repeat the process. He poured out love and support to his charges and the feelings would usually be returned in kind, if not then with even more effort than his own. Gabriel had once told him that humans were foolish to put so much love into one person that couldn’t reciprocate it.

However, Aziraphale found himself to be a liar. He had, after all, lied directly to God. He lied about his love, but still gave it in equal amounts. He had perfected giving love. When to smile, gasp in surprise, frown in disappointment, and even reactions saved for private quarters. They were all great men and women, but Aziraphale could never give them his highest form of love: his honesty. He created characters for each person he was assigned to:  _ The Father Figure, The Advisor, The Brother in Arms, _ and  _ The Lover _ . Out of nearly five thousand years of his job, not one human has ever been graced with having  _ The Aziraphale _ . No, there was only one person he saved that for over the years, unbeknownst to even himself. Between each cycle of leaders, prophets, or prodigies, there was one person that he would spend his Holidays with. Or, rather, one demon. 

He had been showing Crowley his true self since they met on the Wall of Eden, telling the demon the truth of his sword. Then turning around and lying straight to God just hours later. Yes, Crowley was the only being to ever spend time with  _ The Aziraphale _ , and the angel found himself baffled when he realized it years later. Years after he had lost his own opportunity at truly loving a being with all his might. 

But to understand the current situation, a bit of hind-sight is needed.

When Aziraphale was first sent down, to observe and watch over Noah’s family and the construction of the ark, he was all but pleased. He had gotten to meet and know many of the locals over the past three years, finding them challenging but far from evil. The elderly men and women often offered him food and drink in exchange for small tasks or an ear to listen to their stories. Curious eyes of children followed him wherever he went, whispering about his “cloud hair”. A few brave children even spoke to him, wanting to hear stories of where he was from. He made up some of his most creative stories for them and they rewarded him with their laughter and gasps of shock. They were good people that cared for each other and strangers like himself. But they had forsaken God and Her teachings- not unlike the red haired man that called out his name just before the rain. 

“Aziraphale! So, giving the mortals a flaming sword. How did that work out for you?” Crawly drawled teasingly, but Aziraphale only saw the slight glimmer of curiosity in his eyes. 

‘ _ Well, I’ve spent the last millennium keeping record of every human birth and death-’ _

“The Almighty has actually never mentioned it again.” It wasn’t so much lying as it was keeping unnecessary and boring details from the truth. 

“Probably a good thing… What’s all this about?” Crawly sneered up at the ark.

‘ _ God is going to punish these people. Uriel said it would be just like when all of your lot fell. Sending more sinners to Hell.’  _ Aziraphale wrung his hands, glancing around as the children he was telling stories to yesterday scrambled around with the animals- laughing in the face of the unknown that was about to come upon them. Gabriel had said that the flood was unfair. Hell would see a spike in numbers while Heaven would stay on its ever predictable course. 

Once again, Aziraphale omitted the useless details.

The disgust that slowly came over Crawly was one that Aziraphale could only wish he could empathize with. But Heaven- or more importantly, God- could be watching him. Testing his dedication. Making sure he wasn’t questioning God’s choices. Wouldn’t want to add to Hell’s numbers after all.

It wasn’t until the screaming began that Aziraphale allowed himself to show any emotion. Sitting atop a mountain, Aziraphale was forbidden from going anywhere that would inhibit him from keeping the ark in view, but there was never a rule that said he couldn’t close his eyes. Never a rule against tears. Never a rule against him echoing the screams of the people that echoed through the valley. Thoughtless cries ripped from his throat as he beat at his chest and scratched at his arms. No one was around to see the crystal tears, the golden liquid as nails broke the skin, or the sheer silhouette of a flying feathers from a pair of wings slapping the ground. No one would punish him, so he would punish himself. Perhaps God would punish him for these emotions later, but for now, he would punish himself. He thought of drowning himself in the waters with the children, but then Heaven would think him defective. Who knows what punishment they would give him then. No, he couldn’t discorporate himself. He couldn’t let Heaven know that he was going  _ native.  _

It was hours after the cries had ceased that Aziraphale finally put away his wings and healed his wounds. He stood but refused to turn around, keeping his eyes caste downwards. A ruffling of feathers barely registered in Aziraphale’s ears

“...I couldn’t save them all.” Crawley’s feet came into the angel’s view. “If I used a miracle, Hell would know. But, some kids have found themselves over the mountain here, sure to tell tales of a winged man. Can’t wait to become a legendary monster.”

Aziraphale finally looked up, only to see puffy amber eyes. A demon crying for humans? Unthinkable. An angel crying for humans? Equally so. Yet, there they were, crying alone but in clear view of the other. No other being, evil or good, would know of their respected emotional treasons. “...Thank-”

“Don’t.” Crawley waved dismissively, taking a step forward to look over the sea (later known as the Persian Gulf) took over the land. “That boat is almost out of sight. You should be following them, yeah?” 

They didn’t speak any further. It was easier on them both to keep their thoughts to themselves, letting the sound of the waves rolling in fill the silence. Aziraphale looked down into the valley, dry from any rain or ocean drop, to see the handful Crawley had saved, no more than ten children, as they began to walk towards the nearest town. If Aziraphale listened closely, he could hear their cries and curses at God. Aziraphale could only empathize with them in silence.


End file.
